


the ballad of me and my brain

by saikis_whore



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BUT I CAN CONTINUE IF YOU REALLY WANT, Brotherly Love, Creativetwins, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Crying, I GAVE UP DURING THE END, Mental Breakdown, Other, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), THIS IS UNFINISHED LMAO, WIP, basically they all realise separately how roman's life is going to shit, me?? stanning platonic brotherly relationships?? too likely, no death lmao, oh god I was sad when I wrote this, this is a friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26308567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saikis_whore/pseuds/saikis_whore
Summary: ❝ and well, I think I've gone mad.isn't that so sad? ❞-in which the signs of warning can't be visible if there is no one there to notice.and thankfully, there are.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Everyone
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	the ballad of me and my brain

**Author's Note:**

> bonjour, chérie!
> 
> I wrote this at 6am when I was sobbing-- haha um anyways chile ,,  
> this is based off of 'the ballad of me and my brain' by the 1975!!
> 
> enjoy!! I really tried with this one :')
> 
> haha update: it's unfinished near the comfort part, but only a bit! so I hope you still read it.

_❝ and, what a shame, you've lost a brain that you never had._  
_oh, mum, check the car, it can’t have gone far! ❞_

It starts with a bang. Literally.

On the other side of a deep purple door sat a usually darkened room, which belonged to the embodiment of anxiety. Virgil laid on the bed, scrolling through his phone when he heard it. The loud, crash and bang coming from down the hall. He sat up, startled, before deciding to check it out. 

He felt worry spark up within his chest as he realised where it had originated from. A rose-red door.

Virgil had took note of how the anxiety levels of the hall increased as he slowly approached the door. It being 4am, he figured the others were asleep, so they wouldn't hear the noise.

He reaches for the door. Though, as he put his hand on the knob, the anxiety is gone. All that is left is pure _sorrow._

The knob is turned before he can process he had done it, and looks around the room before him. There stood the exaggeratedly fanciful room he'd been used to. In shambles.

Virgil gasped as he looked around. Paper was cluttered around the floor, all filled in with words of black ink. However, that seemed to be the least of his concerns, as there, kneeling on the floor with his head rested on the bed was Roman. As the anxious side walked closer, he noticed tears staining his rosy-red cheeks. A poor sight to be seen. 

He sighed, before putting a blanket on the sleeping man's shoulders. He turns the light off before he leaves. 

He'd tell the others later. 

_❝ I must have left it in a train, or lost in a bar._  
_It’s likely in a sainsbury’s, flirting with the boys_  
_and waiting for me. ❞_

He didn't tell the others.

And so, it was followed by a silent refusal. 

As the resident chef, the embodiment of morality would be tasked with trying to get the other sides to come down to the dining room for a family meal.

It was a few days after the come-in with Virgil, and Roman decided he would skip today's dinner, apparently. Patton looked at the table before him, with everyone except Roman. He raised an eyebrow, before sighing tiredly. He walked up to the creative trait's room. 

A knock, "Roman?" He called. He received no reply. 

Patton knocked again, "Roman? Are you there?" 

He heard nothing except the soft whirl of a ceiling fan. He closes his eyes, before reopening them. Knock, knock, knock. 

SIlence. A soft whirl. Silence. 

Patton retreated back downstairs with nothing to tell the others. 

_❝ I jumped on the bus, declared my name,_  
_and asked if anyone had seen my brain. ❞_

It is accompanied by a withdrawal of voice.

This humanised form of logic was an observant one. It was no shocker, really. He was meant to know most, if not all things. 'The Smart One' was a strong title with a lot to live up to. He managed. 

Going back on his observations, Logan began to notice just how much Roman took himself out of their conversations and debates. The princely side used to happily and eagerly throw in his opinion, wanting all eyes on him. He had an ego, and would do anything to fuel it. That was his role.

Though, when it comes to debate, compliments are only thrown around sarcastically. Roman obviously knew this, Logan decided, and had hypothesised that after the courtroom episode with a certain liar that he understood it was a manipulation tactic. However, even days after the trial, Roman wouldn't join in _normal_ small talk, either. 

Logan would confront him about it. 

"Roman?" The side looked up from the ground, a smile quickly plastered onto his face. And, if Logan hadn't been so observant, he would've shook it off. However, this time, he tipped his head back lightly. The others seemed to be in a conversation of their own with the host, Thomas. 

"Why is it that you stay so silent?" He asked, quieter than he normally would, "I am only asking for, I have noticed you don't seem to want to input your own opinions lately." 

Roman's eyes flashed a tinge of panic, before going back to normal. A plastic brown. "Why, my dearest nerd, I don't seem to get what you mean?" 

"It's just—"

"I believe i'm doing just wonderful, Lo'. Now, if you'd excuse me, I'm going to fetch myself a glass of water. My throat is scarily sore, and a prince's throat must be in tip-top shape in order to sing beautifully!" He declared, before sinking down quickly. 

Logan stood there, slightly dumbfounded, which is concealed with the mask of a deadpanned expression. 

Roman's throat sounded fine. However, he didn't come back.

_❝ I stepped outside, it hurt my eyes._  
_well, what do you expect when you’ve got no mind? ❞_

It is trailed closely by an episode of apathy. 

Remus was never one for secrets, nor was he ever one for falsifications. He also wasn't one for boring, being intrusive thoughts. 

Coming with the role, he'd usually pull tricks on the sides, or sometimes, the creatures Roman created in the imagination. Sometimes as experiments, and sometimes for his own enjoyment. Usually, it was for the dramatic reactions his brother would give him. 

However, lately, those reactions would never come. 

Before, Remus would try to burn down a farm one of the villagers had owned in Roman's side of the imagination, and Roman would yell at him, laugh, say something witty in return, and change it back. 

Now, Remus would try to burn down the castle, and Roman would only watch. He would stare with a blank expression on his face, only moving it to blink. 

The normally loud side stood there in confusion and silence, as his brother changed it back to a full castle, before walking away to do something else. 

"Ro-Bro?" He followed, "You're silent. Ooh! Did the princess die from starvation in the tower before you could save her? Was she eaten by the rats?"

Roman only looked forward. A shrug. 

Remus rolled his eyes, "Ugh, how boring. Do you wanna slay something with me? Like, maybe, a giant kraken!" A large squid appeared in front of them, flopping around, needing a body of water. It smelled horrible. 

"I gave it utters!" The side said excitedly. He pointed to the giant cow utter on the sea creature, a drop of white milk spewed out of it. 

Roman only looked at It, before sinking off. 

Remus huffed, but looked at the space where Roman was standing. 

His concern faded away as the kraken let out a loud "moo!" 

He giggled, taking out his morning-star and ran towards it happily.

_❝ I searched all day, it drove me insane!_  
_where would I be if I was my brain? ❞_

It continued with a lie. 

Being the embodiment of Deceit, Janus knew immediately when it began. He felt it. Like a little sense of alarm, it was a feeling that bloomed whenever someone had lied. Normally, he'd ignore it. But when it came to Roman, whenever the lies became greater, so did the amount of time the feeling stayed in his chest. After a while, it began to hurt. 

They all stood in their respective spots. Virgil sat on the stairs, Patton by the window, Logan by the railing, Janus near him, Remus having in the middle of Patton and Roman, who was near the corner. 

Thomas seemed to be speaking, but Roman didn't seem to notice. All there was, was a pale look on his face. That was what Janus could see. Though, he knew there was more. 

"Roman," He called smoothly. Everyone's attention now was pulled onto the side mentioned, "You've _not_ gone pale. Are you doing alright?" 

Roman smiled, "Well, of course I am, Mr. Pants-On-Fire! You're just mistaken, perhaps it's the lighting." 

Janus nodded after wincing, "Obviously _not_ because I _don't_ know that you're lying."

Roman huffed, about to shoot something back, before being cut off by Patton.

"Kiddo, you know, it's okay to not feel alright," He said kindly, "Just tell us what's wrong!"

"Nothing's wrong! I can assure you," The creative side looked at the deceitful side's flinch, "Just- Just lay off it." 

"Princey, you're not okay, all you have to say is what's causing it. You're panicking." Virgil explained calmly, trying his hardest to tip-toe around the subject, as to not step on a mouse trap and set it off. 

"I'm fine! Please, just, let it go." Roman stepped back. All eyes were on him. But he didn't want that, not now, not now, not now, not now—

Oops, the trap closed. 

He shook as he felt himself fall to the floor. Wait, he's on the floor? He can't feel it. Why is everything so loud? Why does it feel this way? Why can't he actually _hear them?_

Oh, god, are they even there? Have they finally realised how bad he was and left him? Oh, god, oh god, oh god, oh god—

Suddenly, everything was silent. And dark. 

_❝ the nice nurse told me she felt my pain,_  
_but she couldn't find a single trace of my brain. ❞_

It ended with a truth. 

When you were creativity and ego, you had quite the job. You were to create new ideas that wouldn't get denied because they suck and are unrealistic and just "Aren't achievable, Roman." You had to make sure your host's mood was in tip-top shape, which meant _your_ mood had to be in tip-top shape. 

You strived off of compliments, practically begged for recognition, and hunted for approval. You wanted to be _good._

Because if you weren't good, that meant the work you did isn't. And if the work you do isn't, then what's the point? You might as well disappear. 

Oh, with this mindset, Roman might as well sob. 

He was laid down on the couch. Or, that's where he was placed, because, he didn't remember then he got there. When he awoke, he let out a groan, "Ow!"

All eyes were on him. 

"Roman!" Someone exclaimed. He thinks it's Patton, but everything is just so blurry. He closes his eyes, before opening them once again. Yup, his bones were being broken in by Patton. 

"Um, padre, please—" 

"Oh! Right, sorry." Roman let out a breath. It felt refreshing. He turned to face the others concerned faces. 

"H—"

"Oh, you _stupid idiot!_ " Virgil exclaimed, jumping off of the couch's arm and scolding the tired side. "You should've said something." 

"I don't know, it's a bit hard to come clean about my on-going mental breakdowns." Roman joked, trying to get a laugh out of the serious side. He didn't succeed. 

"You've _been_ having them?" Virgil stepped back, "What the fuck, Roman?"

"What?" He argued, throwing his arms up. The other sides and Thomas stare at him, before Remus speaks up, "Are we really that oblivious, or—" 

"Wait, so, is that why I've been so. . . sad?" Thomas asks, quietly.

Roman looks up, before looking away. His eyes fall to anything other than those around him. Thoughts begin to race as silence eats him alive. 

He messed up again, what a surprise. 

The side looks up, meeting his host's downplayed eyes. Oh, he messed up. A lot. Thomas was in distress over this, and it was his fault. It's always his fault. Nobody else was to blame. Only cowards would put the blame on others, and that's not a good trait for a _hero._. 

"Roman, you can't keep forgetting to breathe." 

Inhale, exhale, he sighs. "I'm sorry." 

"For?" 

Roman closes his eyes, wasn't it obvious? "For messing up? For being an idiotic, narcissistic prick? For making things harder than it already is? For—" 

He reopens his eyes they stare back at him, drowning in worry. "You haven't messed up!"

Oh, how he wishes he could believe that.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! 
> 
> if you think I should add any triggers, do let me know!  
> as always, kudos and comments boost my ego so ;)) 
> 
> also this performance of the song ( https://youtu.be/l0IWevjLVGM ) makes me just JMADASKL but  
> then again he was so into his addiction at that point that is just makes me :(  
> but I love matty im glad he's doing better 🥺
> 
> adios, cariño!!
> 
> I'm sorry for it being unfinished!!


End file.
